An intimate epic that follows an unlikely family’s journey from rural Taishan to the wild west of California in the wake of the Chinese Exclusion Act.
One of Suh’s strengths is his ability to mix realism and poetic elements. He uses that here as he shines a light on a dark slice of American history and builds a play around it. The timeline could be clearer, along with an indication of why these Chinese men and women risked so much to be in the U.S. They faced so many hardships there. In this Atlantic Theater Company presentation, director Eric Ting guides a uniformly excellent cast. Tyo, seen previously in Suh's The Chinese Lady, about a different fraught journey from Asia to America, arrives well into the play and shifts the story into high gear. There’s fine work by the design team, including Clint Ramos, whose spare but striking set reveals some surprise elements the director employs. So why were actors suddenly standing up to their ankles in water? I have no idea, and that’s no lie.
“The Far Country” ends in 1930. That ending isn’t necessarily abrupt. But it does feel somewhat arbitrary. Why not 1950? Or 1970? There is so much more history to recover. More love. More promise. More pain. Moon Gyet claims that the strenuous physical labor required of an immigrant is nothing compared with the work of being Chinese in America. This takes patience and focus, he says. A serious mind and a necessary grace. Suh possesses these qualities in full. He has more work to do, more stories to tell.
Videos
TICKET CENTRAL
Recommended For You